


Chance for Change

by FernStone



Series: In The North [1]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bickering, Dad Lord Asriel, Dadriel, Family, Family Secrets, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Identity Reveal, Lyra's World (His Dark Materials), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernStone/pseuds/FernStone
Summary: Lyra always knew, deep down, that he was more than just her uncle.She just didn't expect to find out how in this way.
Relationships: Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua
Series: In The North [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600990
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	Chance for Change

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is my first fic for this fandom so please be gentle. It was meant to be sort then grew into this xD also all written on my phone at like 1am so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Probably more TV show based, since I read the books 12 years ago as opposed to watching the TV show a few days ago. I am rereading the books now.
> 
> Probably fairly out of character but Dadriel makes me so soft, and I've read like all the fics for it. So ofc I had to write my own. Just have a strong craving for that father-daughter relationship we barely get in Canon.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (also sorry for caption have v little correlation oops)

He was ignoring her again, just like he always did. Hand tapping against the table and an inscrutable expression on his face as he looked at the papers in front of him. Lyra didn't even understand why she'd been invited to dine with him.

It was a rare occasion, really, to spend time with her uncle in the short time he was back. For him to even seek her out (though she was sure the Master had pushed him towards it). She had been so excited to see him. But of course, he barely acknowledged her presence.

She pushed her food about her plate with a grumble, barely any appetite now that she was here. Pan curled around her neck as an Ermine, soft fur comforting. They shared silent words of dismay and comfort, resulting in another soft sigh from Lyra. She wanted to go back to her room or to running about with Roger. Normally she would just pay no mind and chat at her Uncle. She had when she'd first arrived, but the lack of response (of any kind, not even a look) had gotten to her.

Normally he'd at least make some derogatory comment.

Today seemed different. He'd never invited her to dine with him before. Normally she was the one who forcibly took her dinner to his quarters.

"You're talking less than normal," Lord Asriel broke the silence with a raised eyebrow and not a single glance in her direction. "Have you finally grown up?"

Lyra glared at him, not that he'd see it. "Don't wanna talk to someone who won't even look at me."

"That hardly warrants such silent treatment. Normally you're full of energy, no matter the situation."

Lyra's nose screwed up in annoyance, Pan whispering a soft warning in her ear. Telling her not to do anything stupid. "Why do you even care?"

"Excuse me," Lord Asriel looked at her now, gazing from behind undoubtedly boring papers. Stelmaria growled a warning. 

"Why do even care," Lyra repeated, dark eyes burning and indignation rolling off her. "You asked me to dine with you but you didn't even look at me since I got here! I know when I en't wanted! So why do you care that I'm quiet? Maybe I'm sick of being ignored."

She'd stood up, fist clenched and ready to bolt towards the door at any moment. Especially if he took a step towards her. He could see the anger in his eyes too, and something else she didn't recognise. He could hurt her, justifiably punish her, for what she'd said.

"Lyra," he said warningly as she opened her mouth to continue. That just made her angrier. 

"I know you don't care about me," she was panting from the exertion, head light and sore from how she'd suddenly stood (she assumed). "I've waited over a year to see you! I was so excited, but you just don't care. Why do you even bother to come back?"

"Lyra..." There it was again, her name bit out in a strained voice. She tried to muster a glare at her Uncle, but her eyes had begun to hurt and the colour was bleeding out of her vision. 

"Lyra, are you okay?" Pan's voice was worried, shaking as he untangled himself from her neck. He could feel her confusion coming off in waves and the sudden pain. 

"Oh," was all she said before she collapsed, Vision momentarily blacking out. 

She registered when Stelmaria bolted out from next to Asriel's feet in concern, her Uncle following swiftly. She could faintly hear her name, called now in a much more urgent tone. She groaned softly and was told to be quiet.

Strong arms picked her up, gruff words continuing to spill into to her ears. She couldn't register exactly what was being said. But she knew it was warm, safe.

She drifted in and out of consciousness.

She was in a bed now, weighed down by someone else sitting on it, gently wiping her brow. She didn't have the strength to open her mouth or to speak, depending on the soft fur against her to know Pan was still there.

The door creaked open and the hand at her brow left, as did the weight on the bed.

"How is she?" the master's voice.

"Recovering," Her uncle's, biting and angered. "They said it was food poisoning."

"A horrible thing to happen to one so young."

"Indeed. And pray tell, who is in charge of Jordan College and the standards it upholds? I didn't know it had fallen to serving under cooked food."

"Little things can be overlooked sometimes."

"LITTLE THINGS?" Asriel spat. Lyra would've jumped at his rage normal, if she had the energy to move. "I gave her to you to protect, yet you can't even feed her safely."

"We care about Lyra as much as you do."

"This is what you call caring for her? Protecting her? You promised to keep her safe yet my daughter is lying on death's bed, the sickest I've ever seen her!"

The words rang out harshly, the silence falling only interrupted by ragged breaths - sickly ones from Lyra, and adrenaline filled from Asriel. Her sickly mind barely registered what had been said but it latched onto one word.

Daughter.

And in her illness it floated around, important without her really knowing what it meant. But it stayed, remembered, even as she passed out again.

-

This was a disaster, Asriel thought to himself, as he sat beside Lyra's bed. Nothing had gone to plan. The dinner with Lyra was supposed to be an apology of sorts for how long he'd gone. He had planned to deliver good news to her. But then she'd arrived and he'd started to question himself. Was it really the smartest decision? Should he really tell her everything?

So he'd ignored her even more than normal.

He hadn't expected for her to fall so ill. She was so pale, face sweat stained and clammy. It had been hours since she'd first fallen ill, well into the middle of the night. But he couldn't bring himself to leave. Someone had to look after her.

She'd started throwing up not that long ago.

It was horrible to witness, but a sign of things moving on and her body getting rid of the toxins. He gently helped her through it, rubbing circles in her back and whispered softly. She fell back asleep in between the sick bouts.

His emotions were conflicted, as they always were with regards to his daughter, but this time it was heady worry that overpowered the rest. He hated it, the powerlessness as he could do nothing to really help her but force her to drink medicine and wipe her brow.

It was exhausting. Especially after he'd just gotten home. But he didn't dare think what would happened if she didn't make it, if he didn't try his hardest.

"She'll be alright," Stelmaria rumbled, head resting on her bed near the young girls hand and were pan was lying. He was still an ermine, writhing just as he did as he felt her pain. Stelmaria gently nudged her nose against him, trying to get him to still. "She's strong, she can fight it."

"I know," Asriel responded, gently brushing Lyra's hair away from her face. Normally he found her chattering annoying but he'd give anything for her to start talking right now. "She'll make it."

He said it to convince himself more than anyone else.

-

The first thing Lyra saw when she woke up properly was Pan, curled up on the pillow beside her. She smiled softly as he blinked open his eyes.

The second thing was her uncle, sleeping in a chair beside her bed, with Stelmaria at his feet.

She still felt sick, but no longer needed to throw up and could finally think clearly. Her head and body still ached but she would be fine.

She remembered snippets of things in between her feverish sleep and constant puking. She remembered a rough hand across her brow, someone gently rubbing her back. The soft rumbling of a large cat soothing her back to sleep. There had been people talking a few times, the Master and Asriel first then others. She remembered being gently shushed every time she whimpered and the taste of some horrible concoction she was made to drink.

It was just snippets throughout the fever. She hardly knew how long it had been. She could tell it was early morning just now with the bird chirping outside her window.

She slowly tried to sit up, her groan of pain rousing Stelmaria. As she did, so did Lord Asriel, his eyes snapping open. He jumped out of her seat and Lyra brace herself to be scolding, only to find him gently propping her up against her pillows.

"Feeling better?" he asked gruffly, hand feeling her brow as he sat beside her.

Lyra nodded, blinking and unused to the attention from her Uncle... No, that wasn't what he was. She remembered now what he'd said when she had just fallen ill.

He was her father.

Pan jumped up onto her shoulder as the shock flooded through her, the reality properly hitting her. He curled around her neck in comfort even as he shared a look with Stelmaria.

"Your fever seems to be down and you're finally awake," Asriel continued as if nothing else was amiss. "I'd say you're out of the worst of it."

She nodded again, words stuck in her throat. What did she even say? She didn't know where to start.

The time he looked at her, eyes narrowing at her silently and eyebrow quizzical.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

His eyes widened a fraction. "For what?"

"What I said, at dinner. Didn't mean it," she mumbled, face reddening and gaze in her lap. She didn't normally apologise.

"That was days ago, I've already forgotten about it," he brushed it off. Slight anger spiked through her again but was overridden by the first thing he'd said.

"Days? I was unconscious for days?"

"Four to be exact."

She remembered so little from it. "Who looked after me?"

There was a pause before he answered. "I did."

Lyra's gaze shot back up to him, words on her lips before she could stop them. "Why didn't you tell me you was my father."

He froze, face contorting and eyes narrowing. His words came out sharp. "Who told you?"

Lyra refused to look away, even as she trembled slightly (she was still ill that was why). "I overheard, when I was sorta awake. Didn't remember till now. Didn't know what it meant then."

Asriel looked away to Stelmaria, a silent conversation going on between them before he spoke again. "Yes, I'm your father."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she repeated her question.

"To keep you safe."

"Why?" That confused her. How did that help.

"There are some things you're not old enough to know."

Lyra let out a huff, glaring at him. "Why did you ignore me, then. Why did you never give me any of your time... Or care about me."

She may have apologised, but it didn't mean what she had said wasn't entirely true.

Lord Asriel winced. He thought for a moment before admitting, "I would've grown attached. I cannot afford to care, Lyra, at least I couldn't. One small mistake and everyone would know. I couldn't have that happening."

"So it was better just to ignore me for my safety?"

"I would have told you, eventually," a lie.

"Father's are meant to care for their daughters, not invite them to dinner then ignore them," she muttered.

"I invited you to dinner to talk to you," his voiced was strained. "I was... Going to invite you to come North with me when I went back."

Lyra's eyes widened before she let out a squeal, even as Pan squeaked at her to calm down. He was going to ask her to go North, with him? He was finally letting her go with him to fulfill her dreams.

"Yes, yes, I want to!" she shot forward, wrapping her arms around him. "Please take me with you!"

"Hush, child, I promise I will," Asriel awkwardly patted her back, not seeming to know what to do in response to the hug. "Try not to work yourself up. You need to recover before we leave."

Lyra stated up at him with wide eyes, ignoring his displeasure at her closeness to continue to cling to him. "You're going to wait for me?"

"I..." he let out a sigh. "Yes, I'll wait."

Lyra squealed again, burying her head against his chest. "Thank you, thank you, you won't be disappointed."

"I hope not," the slightest of smiles, genuine rather than predatory, quirked the side of his lips. Gently he removed his arms from around him and pushed her back to lie down. "But you need to rest. I won't hesitate to leave you behind if I see you out of bed before your fully recovered."

Lyra pouted, but didn't complain as he pulled the blanket up over her. She was too excited but still so very tired.

"Now get some more sleep," Asriel spoke softly, hesitantly ruffling her hair. Then he was gone.

So much had happened, so much was running through Lyra's head. She still had so many questions and there was so much to sort out between them. They still needed to talk, she wanted to know more now she knew her parents weren't dead. Who was her mother?

But that could wait. Her eyes slowly fluttered closed.

Yes, she'd have plenty of time to talk.

Because she was finally getting to go North, with her father. 


End file.
